


The Vanished

by MandalorianDragonTrainer



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Assuming Everything Is Returned To Normal And The Space Grape Was Destroyed, F/M, Gen, Kidnapping, Missing Persons, Mystery, Set after infinity war, Tony Is Not Going To Take This Well, expect angst, married!Pepperony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-08-19 03:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16526501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandalorianDragonTrainer/pseuds/MandalorianDragonTrainer
Summary: Virginia "Pepper" Potts-Stark is missing, vanished without a trace, leaving behind a brokenhearted husband desperate to find her. As hope for her rescue begins to fade, Tony is faced with impossible choices as a long-forgotten enemy begins to resurface, threatening not only the love of his life but the security of the known world.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings! As of my first posting, I have the next four chapters mapped out. Buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy ride.

 

Tony Stark was already awake when his wife’s alarm clock went off. He had never been that heavy of a sleeper, and tended to rest in short spurts, a habit developed from a torturous combination of anxiety and a severely overactive mind. These days, however, he was grateful for these fleeting moments of wakefulness, scattered throughout his once lonely and painful nights. It meant he got to watch Pepper sleep, lips slightly parted, her red hair spread over the pillow as her sides rhythmically rose and fell, more beautiful than anything Tony could think of.

 

“Shut it off, F.R.I., and get the coffee started if you don’t mind,” he murmured to the A.I. as Pepper began to stir, stretching out his limbs with a heavy groan. “I swear I’m getting arthritic…”

 

“Definitely. Your creaking joints woke me up before the alarm even had a chance,” Pepper’s voice teased softy as she fumbled for the lamp, blue eyes blinking rapidly as the light flickered to life. “How’d you sleep?”

 

“Brilliantly.”

 

Pepper rolled back onto her side to face her husband, unconvinced by his cocksure grin. She gently thumbed the dark rings beneath his eyes. Though it had been three months since Tony and the rest of the Avengers had defeated Thanos and reversed his murder of half the universe, the Iron Man still found his nights riddled with nightmares, mostly of a certain frightened little boy weeping as he faded to dust in Tony’s arms. “Baby, I told you to ask the doctor for sleeping pills.”

 

Tony caught her hand and kissed it, attempting to alleviate her concern with a carefree laugh. “Don’t need ‘em, honey. It’s all your fault, after all. You’re just so gorgeous I can’t bring myself to take my eyes off you, even to sleep.”

 

“Wow,” Pepper shook her head, sliding her feet into her slippers and sauntering to the bathroom, Tony close behind. “You’re a real piece of work,” she commented as she tamed her tangled hair into a stylish ponytail and slipped into a clean white blouse and black skirt.

 

“A piece of _artwork,_ my darling,” Tony corrected, shuffling downstairs ahead of her to pour them two mugs of hot coffee. “And besides, as far as my unfortunate nighttime routine goes, practice makes perfect!”

 

“Practice for what?” Pepper inquired with a raised eyebrow, accepting the extraordinarily tacky “World’s #1 Wife” mug that Tony had graciously bestowed upon her the first morning of their honeymoon, a mere two months before.

 

“Well, babies tend to keep you up at night. Might as well be used to a sporadic sleep schedule.”

 

Pepper couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh Tony, this again?”

 

“You said you’re open to it.”

 

“Yes, I said I was _open_ , not that it was a done deal,” she corrected.

 

“You said you felt nauseous yesterday morning.”

 

“That was from the sushi, remember? I even went to the doctor’s during my lunch to be sure of it. Also, we’re never eating at Tanaka’s again.”

 

Tony practically pouted, evoking a giggle from his wife. “Don’t give me that look. Two years ago, you would’ve gone into full cardiac arrest if I—”

 

He softly pressed a kiss to her lips. “Lot’s changed since then, baby.”

 

Pepper smiled fondly, gazing into Tony’s liquid brown eyes. How far he’d come since they’d met one another. In moments like this, it seemed that the self-absorbed, womanizing alcoholic who’d hired her on as a personal assistant nearly two decades before was merely a figment of her imagination—in fact, in some ways, he always had been. Pressing her hand behind his neck, she leaned in close—

 

“Mrs. Stark ma’am, need I remind you of your 7:00 appointment with the OsCorp representative?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. interjected with her trademark sauciness.

 

Pepper glanced in horror at her watch. She gave Tony a final kiss before downing her coffee and rushing to the door, internally chiding herself for becoming distracted. Tony fetched her briefcase, disappointed that their moment was interrupted. “Couldn’t you stay home today, Pep? Take a sick day?”

 

She offered him a scolding look. “You do realize everything this company does reflects on you? That includes being late for meetings.”

 

“Eh, last I checked you’re a Stark now, too. Betcha folks don’t even remember me these days.”

 

“Yes, I suppose people do have a habit of forgetting the man who saved the entire universe,” Pepper placed her hand on Tony’s cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, honey. We’re having dinner with Peter and his aunt?”

 

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t be late. I’ll have dinner on the table at 8:00 sharp.”

 

Pepper lovingly rolled her eyes, brushing her lips against his cheek one last time before hurrying out the door. Tony longed to go after her, scoop her in his arms, insist that he stay with her. He hated watching her go.

 

He should’ve listened to himself.

 

But how could he have known that she would vanish?


	2. Ordinary Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late Saturday afternoon where I live, but I'm sure it's Sunday somewhere and I've got a busy week ahead... so enjoy!

A light drizzle pattered down on the unassuming black sedan as it rolled up to the back entrance of the Stark Industries New York headquarters. A valet hurried to take the keys from Happy Hogan as he exited the driver’s seat and circled around the back of the car, opening an umbrella for Mrs. Pepper Stark as she stepped out into the rain.

 

“Thank you, Happy,” she smiled gratefully. Though Tony’s bodyguard had long since been promoted to Stark Industries’ Forehead of Security, he still insisted on chauffeuring Pepper to and from work, unwilling to place the safety of the Stark family in the hands of anyone else.

 

“Careful, the steps are slick,” Happy cautioned, just as a young security guard rushed to greet them.

 

“Mr. Hogan! Uh, excuse me, Mrs. Stark, um, Mr. Hogan, could you please come down real quick? We’ve got a bit of uh—situation.”

 

“Can’t it wait, Reggie?” Happy grumbled. “I’ve got to make sure Mrs. Stark gets to her meeting.” The loyal bodyguard preferred to size up any individuals Pepper had meetings with, which, after the incident with Aldrich Killian several years earlier, was not entirely illogical.

 

“I—I’m afraid it’s…. urgent, sir,” Reggie glanced nervously at his feet, avoiding the burly man’s steely gaze.

 

Pepper fondly rolled her eyes. “Go on, Hap, I can see myself up the stairs.”

 

Happy stared at her hesitantly before sighing in resignation, following after Reggie. A ding from Pepper’s StarkWatch alerted her that only three minutes remained before her meeting with the OsCorp representative. She briskly made her way inside and up the glass stairwell in the main lobby, individually acknowledging as many employees as possible. Pepper made an effort to learn the names of each person she regularly crossed paths with during the workday. It was one of the many reasons she was popular amongst SI employees.

 

“Mrs. Stark!” Pepper’s personal assistant, Jasmine, rushed up beside her, tablet clutched in one hand and double espresso in the other. “So sorry I’m late, the traffic today was—”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Pepper assured. “So, what’s on the agenda?”

 

“After your meeting with OsCorp, you have a briefing with legal about the Steel lawsuit, then a meeting with HR about the new company insurance policy immediately after, then at 10:00 you need to approve the landscaping plans for the new rec center. At 11:00 I have you at the press conference on the Stark Relief Foundation, but you need to be back here by 11:45 for a meeting with Letty March from Vistacorp. You have a lunch date with Tony at 12:30—”

 

“Ah, I completely forgot about that,” Pepper bit her lip. “Could you cancel it? I really need to squeeze Marisa Thompson in sometime before Friday.”

 

“On it.”

 

“Thank you, Jaz, you’re a lifesaver. Oh, and can you make sure a kid from security named Reggie gets The Check this week?” she requested, referring to the $5,000 bonus Stark Industries gave each week to an employee. “He deserves it, Happy was giving him a rough time this morning.”

 

“Consider it done. Now hurry up or you’ll be later!”

 

Pepper offered the woman a look of mock offense before darting down the hall, swinging open the door to the conference room at 7:00 sharp.

 

“Good morning, gentlemen,” she greeted with a welcoming smile.

 

“Mrs. Stark! Wonderful to see you again.” The man sitting at the head of the mahogany table stood to shake Pepper’s hand.

 

Her eyes widened slightly.

***

 

“What’s so urgent that you had to pull me away? In front of the boss, no less?” Happy grumbled. Reggie had only been hired on a few months before, and although he liked the kid, Happy found his timing to be exceptionally poor.

 

“The cameras on the lower south end of the main building have been on the fritz all morning,” Reggie reported as he and the security chief descended into the basement levels. “We’ve been working to get them back online all morning, but for some reason they just won’t cooperate.”

 

“So, you’re telling me…” Happy raised an eyebrow. “That absolutely no one here, the top tech conglomerate on the face of the planet, can get a dang _video camera_ working?”

 

“It-it’s not as simple as that, sir,” Reggie flushed.

 

Muttering under his breath, Happy marched into the monitoring room, where several technicians were hunched over the controls, trying to uncover the source of the problem.

 

“How long have they been down for?”

 

“On and off for about 45 minutes, sir,” one of the techs chirped.

 

Happy folded his arms. “Get them back up as soon as humanly possible. The last thing we need—”

 

Without warning, the malfunctioning monitors suddenly flickered back to life. “What the….” the tech mumbled, striking away at the controls. “Let me run some diagnostics…”

 

“What? What is it?” Happy demanded.

 

“Not completely sure, sir, but it seems the system’s fully back online now.”

 

“Who fixed it?”

 

“No one,” the bespectacled young woman glanced back at him. “Looks like it worked through the glitch on its own, somehow.”

 

“Oh. Well then, crisis averted. Everyone back to work.”

 

Satisfied that order had been restored, Happy confidently strode back toward the main level, intent on grabbing a glass of orange juice from the breakfast bar before making sure the college-aged interns in financing weren’t making paper airplanes out of liability forms again. He could only imagine his relief when SI went fully paperless at the end of the year.

 

Still, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

 

***

 

“Norman?” Pepper blinked. “Well, this-this certainly is a surprise. I was expecting a representative.”

 

“Wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to pay you a visit, Mrs. Stark,” Norman Osborn firmly clasped her hand, a smarmy grin on his face. “You look lovely this morning.”

 

“Thank you. I was under the impression you were in Europe?”

 

“Yes indeed, but what we’ve got for you today is so special it warranted a flight back to the States. Please, have a seat while Jacob here gets the presentation ready,” Osborn nodded at the sandy-haired assistant by his side.

 

Pepper smoothed out her skirt as she sat opposite her guest. Neither she nor Tony were particularly fond of Norman Osborn. His false charm and reputation for unscrupulous business practices, not to mention his beady grey eyes, cast about him an aura of overall untrustworthiness.

 

“Now, Mrs. Stark,” Osborn took the remote for the 3D projector from his assistant. “Today, I want to share with you a little project we at OsCorp have been hard at work on for nearly three years. While we have constructed a prototype, I believe through a partnership with Stark Industries, we can bring this beauty to life. So, without further ado…” A projection sprang to life over the table. “The Goblin Glider.”

 

Pepper furrowed her brow as she examined the image. “A glider?”

 

“Exactly. The literal magic carpet of modern hovercraft. The Goblin allows the user an almost instantaneous 360-degree range of motion while remaining fully-protected by its accompanying state-of-the-art body armor, made from the most lightweight alloy currently known. Its unique equilibrium calibrators were specially designed to keep the pilot’s center of gravity positioned directly over the glider’s center at all times, allowing them to perfectly keep their balance when maneuvering sideways, or even upside down. Not to mention, it can be manufactured for a fraction of the cost of one your husband’s suits.” Osborn was almost giddy was a ran a clip of a test pilot demonstrating the Goblin’s capabilities. “So… what do you think?”

 

“It’s an incredible piece of tech…” Pepper admitted, eyes fixated on the video. “What are its applications?”

 

“Virtually limitless, but we’re mostly focused on equipping the Goblin with Stark retroreflective paneling technology, enabling stealth operatives, as well as short-range missile—”

 

Pepper immediately spun around in her chair to face Osborn. “Did you just say ‘missile’?”

 

“Yes, ma’am. We’ve been offered a hefty military contract—”

 

“Mr. Osborn,” Pepper stood, looking him straight in the eye. “You are _well_ aware that Stark Industries no longer manufactures weapons. We also do not accept any military funding. Now, I personally find this tech remarkable. I can think of a thousand better uses for it than as a tool of destruction. Think of its potential in search-and-rescue, or in natural disaster recovery, or even space exploration? I am _more_ than happy to discuss a partnership with you, on the condition that we do not outfit the Goblin for military usage.”

 

Norman Osborn stared, eyes boring into her, for an uncomfortably long moment. “Pepper. I’m afraid you don’t understand—”

 

“No, Mr. Osborn, I’m afraid that _you_ don’t understand. Under no circumstances will we manufacture weapons.”

 

“You’re making a terrible mistake, Pepper.” Osborn spoke in an almost threatening tone.

 

“It’s Mrs. Stark, if you don’t mind,” Pepper gathered up her briefcase. “Have a nice day, Mr. Osborn.”

 

“Pepper—”

 

“I said, _have a nice day._ ”

 

***

 

Tony carefully adjusted his necktie, stepping back to observe himself in the floor-length mirror. “So, F.R.I., how do I look?”

 

“Severely overdressed for a casual lunch date, boss.”

 

“Tony Stark doesn’t do casual,” Tony reminded his A.I. “Besides, the missus deserves the best. Speaking of which, can you put it an urgent order with the florist? I’m think a bouquet of roses are in order.”

 

“You may want to check your phone first, boss. New message from Jasmine Chang.”

 

“Hm… oh.” Tony’s face fell as he read the text.

 

_Mrs. Stark needs to cancel you lunch today. Sorry, Mr. Stark._

“Well…” he smirked sadly. “Isn’t the first time I’ve been stood up.”

 

“Shall I order up a round of Stark Raving Hazelnuts to ease the pain, sir?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. teased.

 

“It’ll take something stronger than that, I’m afraid. This wound cuts deep.”

 

“It seems someone’s on the way to help with that.”

 

“Right on time,” Tony chuckled, just as a soft thump sounded from the window, followed by a steady rapping. A smile tugging at his lips, Tony clapped twice, signaling the shades to roll up, revealing a rather unusual arachnid stuck to the glass. “Let him in, F.R.I.”

 

Peter Parker crawled through the opening far before it was wide enough to accommodate a normal human. He shot a stream of webbing onto the roof and swung down in front of Tony, suspended upside-down, before whipping off his mask with a wide grin. “Hi, Mr. Stark!”

 

“Hey, kid,” Tony gently popped him on the forehead. “You look pleased with yourself.”

 

“We got our grades back on our physics midterms!!!” The boy’s smiled was filled with sunshine. “I got 108! All the normal questions _and_ the bonus ones!”

 

“That so? I’d better watch my back then, … I’m thinking there may be a new genius around.”

 

Peter’s cheeks reddened slightly. “Thanks, Mr. Stark? Are you going on a date with Miss Potts—I mean, Mrs. Stark?”

 

“I was, but she had to cancel.”

 

“Oh,” Peter frowned in sympathy for his mentor, dropping to the floor. “That’s a bummer.”

 

“Sure is… hey, it’s your lunch period, isn’t it? Have you eaten?”

 

Peter sheepishly shook his head.

 

“Hey, kid, we talked about skipping meals. Gotta keep up with your metabolism. I’ll whip you up some PB&J, how’s that sound? Afraid that’s all about I can guarantee I won’t burn.”

 

“Avoid toasting it this time, boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. advised.

 

“Duly noted.”

 

Peter pattered down the stairs after Tony, chattering on about how he had rejoined marching band and really wanted to play the tuba and oh how Tony wouldn’t believe how many people tried to rob a single jewelry store in one night, it was ridiculous…

 

Tony hoped he wouldn’t stop. Some days, he struggled to believe that Peter was really back. That he was smiling, and breathing, and whole, and alive. If he were honest, though, it seemed that Peter felt the same way. The boy paid Tony a visit during nearly every lunch or free period, trailed him around the lab on weekends, and often fell asleep on his couch doing homework. Though he hid it well beneath a web of easygoing quips and carefree smiles, a darkness lingered about him.

 

He was afraid

 

_Who can blame him?_ Tony thought, glancing up at Peter while scraping peanut butter thickly across the bread, the way he knew the kid liked it. No child should ever be as aware of their own mortality as Peter now was. No child should ever have to die.

 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark!” Peter stuffed the sandwich in his mouth and slung his backpack across his shoulders. “Gotta go, got robotics in ten minutes!”

 

“Swing safe, kid. See you and Aunt May tonight for dinner with myself and the wife?”

 

“Yup!”

 

Tony’s heart swelled with fondness for the kid as he watched him leap from window, catching a line of webbing on a nearby ledge and whipping out of sight. In his heart, he made a silence promise. Nothing would happen to that kid again so long as he lived. He would tear the stars from the sky before anything touched another that he loved. No one would ever hurt Peter.

 

No one would ever hurt Pepper.

 

***

 

“Out of my way!” Norman shoved aside the greeter attempting to hold the door open for him, desperate to put as much space between himself and Stark Industries as possible. Vein popping from his forehead, he shot Jacob, who struggled to keep up with him, a heated glare. “That woman has no idea what she just got herself into.”

 

“I’m sure she doesn’t, sir,” the beleaguered assistant answered, weighed down by the stack of folders that should have been piled high on Pepper Stark’s desk by now.

 

Norman threw open the door of his limousine before the driver was even able to bring it to a stop.  “I’m taking the rest of the day off, Jacob.”

 

“Oh, er, does that mean—”

 

“No. You know what to do.” With that, Norman Osborn slammed the door and ordered his chauffeur to take him to the nearest bar.

 

Once his employer’s vehicle was out of sight, Jacob spat a stream of curses after it, before marching through the rain toward his own car in the back corner visitor’s parking lot. Time would only tell how much longer he could put up with Osborn’s infantile outbursts and overwhelmingly fragile ego. Seething with anger, he tore open his trunk and dumped the folders unceremoniously inside, hiding the duct tape, zip-ties, and stun gun from view.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you, but I'm becoming rather concerned...


	3. Kidnapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, I'm on Christmas break and can return to working on this! Hope you enjoy!

“What’s the problem now?” Happy grumbled as he spotted Reggie in the corner of his eye once again. This was the third time that day the kid had reported technical malfunctions. “Don’t you dare say the cameras—”

 

“The cameras are down again,” the young guard chuckled nervously.

 

Happy huffed in irritation. “Okay, that’s it. Take them all offline for 10 minutes and see if that does anything, got it? I’ll walk Mrs. Stark out to the car.”

 

“You want us to… turn them all off and on again?” Reggie’s eyes glinted with amusement.

 

“Do I look like Tony Stark to you, kid? That’s about the extent of my tech knowledge, and you’re about to see the extent of my patience. Now go!”

 

The kid skittered off, tail between his legs. Happy rolled his eyes and punched in Pepper’s floor on the elevator. Last thing he needed was for something to happen to Mrs. Stark while the cameras were down.

 

He’d never forgive himself.

 

***

 

 

“Mrs. Stark?”

 

Pepper’s head shot up from the computer, startled back to reality by the voice. Jasmine stood in the doorway, tapping her watch. “Sorry to bother you, but you’ll be late for dinner with Tony and his kid if you don’t head out soon.”

 

“Right…” Pepper glanced at her StarkWatch, surprised at how much time had passed since her last meeting ended, squandered on trying to fix this OsCorp fiasco. She rubbed a palm against her forehead, nerves shot, before glancing up at her assistant, whose eyes looked nearly as heavy as her own felt. “Thank you, Jaz… why don’t you head on home now? I just need to shut down in here and I’ll be on my way."

 

“That’d be great, Mrs. Stark… I’ll forward you those forms when I get to my apartment. Oh, and Mr. Hogan is on his way up... he wants to walk you out. Said something about the cameras being down.”

 

Pepper shook her head fondly. “Sounds like Happy. I’ll have those forms signed by the end of the night. See you in the morning!”

 

Jasmine waved goodnight as Pepper gathered her files into her briefcase, switching off the light. Her StarkWatch informed her that it was now 9:00. She frowned, knowing she was already late for dinner with Tony, Peter, and May.

 

“Ready to go?” a figure appeared beside her.

 

Pepper jumped in surprise, a surge of frightened anger shooting through her. “Happy! Don’t _do_ that!” She gasped softly, struggling to catch her breath.

 

“Sorry,” he took a step back like a kicked dog. “I—I just thought you could walk with me out to the car, that way you don’t have to wait alone while I bring it around.”

 

“I—I’m sorry, Hap… I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Pepper smiled softly, heart still racing. “I’m just a little antsy tonight.”

 

“I don’t blame you, after the way that piece of scum Osborn treated you,” Happy furrowed his brow, darkness flashing through his eyes.

 

Pepper shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing to be done. Let’s just get home.”

 

The Stark Industries corporate building was always rather eerie at night. While Pepper knew many business worked their secretaries and interns into the wee hours of the morning, hunched over their computers until their eyes bled, she ensured that every last one of their employees made it out the door at no later than 8:30, save for nighttime security of course. She felt a twinge of guilt for keeping Jasmine so late.

 

Pepper gathered her arms tightly about her they stepped out into the chilled night air. Winter was coming early this year, it seemed. Happy glanced at her in concern. “Need my jacket, boss?”

 

“Oh, I’m fine, Hap, thank you though.”

 

“You sure? It’s a good way to the car.”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

By the time they actually reached the car, however, Pepper was beginning to regret turning down Happy’s offer. Thanks to Tony keeping her behind time that morning, Happy had been forced to park in one of the back lots.

 

“I think it’s supposed to storm,” she observed, noticing the cold gray clouds blacking out the stars.

 

“We’ll be on the road before it hits,” Happy assured.

 

However, as if on cue, the security chief’s radio buzzed. “Mr. Hogan! Mr. Hogan, do you read?”

 

Happy groaned and lifted the receiver to his mouth. “Copy.”

 

“There’s been a break-in at the east entrance, sir, looks like someone’s trying to take advantage of the system being down.”

 

Face reddening with rage, Happy cursed under his breath. “Shoulda known this was all a set up…”

 

“Go,” Pepper gently shoved his arm. “Go, they need you. I’ll wait in the car.”

 

“Boss—”

 

“Happy, _go._ ”

 

Nodding briskly, Happy turned and sprinted back toward the building. Pepper continued through the dark parking lot toward the car, hoping the security breach wasn’t severe. She couldn’t help but wonder…. did Norman Osborn have anything to do with this?

 

Upon reaching the car, Pepper tried the passenger door, frowning when she found it was still locked. A cool breeze rippled through her thin blouse, sending a shiver down her spine. Rummaging through her purse, she found her cell phone and opted to shoot Happy a text, hoping he might unlock the door remotely, so she could get in before it began raining.

 

A message from Tony lit up the screen. _Hope you’re almost home <3 … May brought spaghetti and I made garlic bread! _Pepper couldn’t help but giggle at the attached image of a horribly scorched loaf of what she could only assume was once Tony’s garlic bread.

 

_Please tell me you didn’t set off the fire—_

The phone suddenly fell from her hand, screen shattering. An arm had snaked around her waist from behind, pinning her arms to her side, as a hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her petrified scream.  Pepper’s entire body stiffened as the unfamiliar hands dragged her backwards. A vehicle—it appeared to be a black van—was fast approaching, and her attacker shouted to its driver. “Hurry up!” She screamed again, panic welling in her heart. This man’s grip was strong, she couldn’t wriggle free, she couldn’t—

 

The man lifted her slightly from the ground, a stiletto heel sliding loose from her left foot. Gritting her teeth, Pepper drove the other into his shin, evoking a howl of pain. His hold loosened for only a moment, but she twisted her body with such force that he let go completely once she jammed her elbow under his ribcage.

 

_“Get away from me!!!”_ she wailed, throwing another elbow into his chin and swinging her left fist toward his nose. Her attacker dodged, the blow catching him right above the eye. He yelped and stumbled back as her wedding ring tore a gash, blinding him with his own blood.

 

Shouting in pain, he lunged forward, clumsily grasping a lock of her hair. Praying someone could hear, Pepper screamed and pounded against him, thrusting the heel of her palm against the man’s nose as she forcefully raised a knee into his groin. Flinging off her remaining shoe, she kicked him in the abdomen as he sank down, sending him sprawling back on the asphalt. Pepper turned and sprinted as fast as her bare feet could carry her, crying out for help. _“Happy, Happy! Someone, help, please!!!”_

 

An engine roared behind her. Pepper’s heart lurched against her sternum as the black van barreled along beside her. The tarmac ripped the skin from her feet as she spun to run the opposite way. A desperate sob rose from her throat.

 

She was running away from the building.

 

The van, tires screeching, nearly rolled as it turned to follow her. Within seconds, it was alongside her, windows down for a hand grasp at her. Pepper leapt to the side, avoiding capture, but lost her balance. The vehicle skidded to a halt as she tripped to the ground, the asphalt shredding her knees and elbows. She screamed in terror, struggling to get to her feet, as two thugs burst from the van and charged at her. 

 

_“No, no don’t—”_

 

The air fled Pepper’s lungs as the first man slammed into her, smacking her head back against the blacktop. A final word escaped her lips before a heavy hand crushed them.

 

_“Tony!”_

 

Flashes of color and light danced before Pepper’s eyes as she was lifted from the asphalt, a thin trail of blood trickling from her hair. Strange voices echoed dimly in her ears as she limply flailed about in her captor’s grasp. Rough carpet scratched against her cheek as she was forced into the back of the van, pinned on her abdomen as her hands were fastened behind her.

 

“Get her feet, too,” one of men urged his accomplice. “Hurry up!”

 

“Shut up,” the other hissed. “Go grab Knowles.”

 

“Leave… leave me alone…” Pepper murmured softly, her head still throbbing.

 

“Afraid you’re coming with us, hun,” the man snorted, rolling her onto her back and wrapping tape around her mouth before shoving a bag over her head. He slammed the door and rushed around to the driver’s seat, speeding to where his companion was attempting to slap Pepper’s first attacker back to consciousness.

 

“Knowles, Knowles! Get up, you idiot! Jake, _come on!”_

 

Jacob only moaned in response.

 

The driver brought the van up beside them, leaning out the window. “Reed, get him up already! We don’t have all day!”

 

Groaning, Reed grabbed Jacob by the collar and hauled himself into the back of the van, letting him fall on the floor alongside Pepper. “Gun it!” he shouted to the driver, who slammed the accelerator and raced from the parking lot, leaving behind only blood and an empty pair of heels.  

 

Rain began to fall.

 

***

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., has Pepper left work yet? She’s not answering my texts.”

 

“Boss, have you forgotten that she removed me from her private server because she was, if I recall correctly, ‘sick and tired of you stalking her?’” the AI replied smartly.

 

Tony grumbled to himself and continued to stare out the penthouse window, rain splattering against the pane. Not even the succulent scent of spaghetti inspired him to move.

 

“Mr. Stark, pining like a puppy isn’t gonna make Mrs. Stark come home any faster.”

 

Tony turned to glance at Peter, whose soft brown eyes were sparkling mischievously. “Sidekicks are supposed to be supportive, buckaroo.”

 

“Well then, good thing I’m not your sidekick then,” Peter leapt up onto the ceiling and grinned down at Tony, who couldn’t help but smile. It was obvious that Peter was just trying to cheer him up, but it was working.

 

“Peter?” May rounded the corner from the kitchen. “Why don’t we go ahead and get the table set? That way we’re ready to eat when Pepper gets here.”

 

“Okay!” Peter nudged Tony’s shoulder. “You can help us too, Mr. Stark.”

 

“Hm? Oh, yeah… for sure, kid.”

 

May raised her eyebrow. “You all right, Tony? I haven’t heard you make a single wildly inappropriate remark all night.”

 

“Who, me? I’m fine.”

 

May wasn’t convinced. “She’ll be back soon, Tony. I’m sure she just got held up at the office.”

 

Yet Tony could hear the wobble in May’s voice. She knew what it was like to wait anxiously for one's spouse to come home. And better than anyone, she knew what the agony of when they never did.

 

“Hey, Mr. Stark? Should I set a place for Happy, too?” Peter called from the kitchen.

 

“Why not?” Tony gave May a teasing wink. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see May.”

 

Peter cocked his head quizzically and May hid her face in her palm. Tony laughed to himself, just as the phone rang.

 

“Speak of the devil,” Tony lifted the phone to his ear, relief flooding his body. Surely, his loyal chauffeur was only calling to let him know he and Pepper were late due to the bad weather and would be home at any moment.

 

“Hey Hap, you guys almost ba—”

 

“Tony I’m so sorry Tony oh my—Tony, I’m so sorry it’s all my fault I’m so so sorry…” the distraught man blubbered. Happy Hogan never blubbered.

 

Ice spread through Tony’s veins. “Happy. What happened?”

 

“You gotta get down here right now, Tony, _right now!_ ”

 

Tony swore Happy choked on a sob.

 

“ _Happy. Where is Pepper?_ ”

 

A long pause. Tony could hear the sound of his own heart throbbing. Peter and May stared at him in dread.

 

“Tony…. Pepper’s been kidnapped.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me.


	4. Lost

“It has been a grueling 12 hours since Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts-Stark, Stark Industries CEO and wife of famed billionaire Avenger Tony Stark, was reported missing. Law enforcement has since confirmed Mrs. Stark was abducted from a parking lot at SI last night shortly after 9 PM…”

 

Tony sat with his head in his hands, slowly, rhythmically rocking himself back and forth. Every word of the newswoman’s voice rose above the din of FBI agents milling throughout the penthouse, stabbing through the distraught man like a blade thrust through his eardrum. Not even Rhodey’s comforting voice, or his reassuring hand, could bring Tony any consolation.

 

Pepper was gone.

 

The moment Tony received Happy’s call, he stormed to his lab, tearing open the safe where he had tucked his nanosuit housing unit after Thanos’ defeat, swearing to Pepper that Iron Man’s time was over. But now Iron Man was needed once more. He smashed out the window, leaving glass shattered over the plush carpet Pepper selected especial for their master suite.

 

He arrived at SI thirty seconds before the first police officer did, finding a near hysterical Happy pacing in the rain, wringing his hands. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to tell there had been a scuffle. Black tire treads covered the asphalt, as did patches of blood that thinned in the gently falling rain. And the Gucci heels Tony bought Pepper for her last birthday lay abandoned in the midst of it all.

 

Panic and rage welled within Tony’s heart. Someone had kidnapped his wife. His sun, moon, and stars. Heaven only knew what they intended to do to her.

 

And that someone would die for it.

 

Within an hour, Iron Man had scraped the entire city up in search for her, leaving no backroad, warehouse, sewer, storage shed, or cellar in a hundred-mile radius unsearched. War Machine arrived to aid with the search, as did the state police and FBI. The Avengers, called to an emergency reunion, planned to convene later in the morning. But the efforts were all in vain.

 

It was as though Pepper had vanished.

 

 _Who took her? Where is she?_ The questions racked Tony’s mind, yet both were impossible to answer. Tony had many enemies, as did Pepper herself. Hundreds, if not thousands, had fine motivations for kidnapping Virginia Stark. And as to where she was, Tony could only imagine. The image of his precious wife—wounded, bound, and sobbing—was seared into his brain, haunting his every thought…. He could hear her crying for him…

 

 _“Tony… Tony…_ TONY!”

 

Rhodey’s voice snapped Tony from his reverie. The man’s bloodshot eyes locked with those of his best friend, searching for some sense of sanity in this nightmare. Rhodes placed a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder, smiling sadly.

 

“Tony… Agent Bowers was talking to you.”

 

“Oh?” Tony glanced at the uniformed man, who stared down at him with impatient eyes set above a stern gray moustache.

 

“Mr. Stark, think you can hold it together long enough to have civil discussion?” he asked in exasperation.

 

“I’d tread lighter, pal,” Rhodey warned.

 

“No, it’s fine,” Tony wiped his eyes and stood to face the agent. “What is it?”

 

“We still haven’t received any sort of communication from your wife’s abductors, so I recommend we proceed with the press conference and officially announce the reward money.”

 

“Of course,” Tony nodded briskly. “I’ll go… freshen up.”

 

“Solid plan. We’ll be ready to roll in fifteen.”

 

Tony wandered into his bathroom, tenderly running his fingers across Pepper’s hand towel, which she’d used to dry her face only a single morning ago. The scent of her fragrant shampoo still hung in the air. It seemed as though nothing had happened, and Tony half-expected her to meander in wearing her silky bathrobe, muttering about how she was going to strangle him if he left his sopping toothbrush on the counter one more time.

 

Sighing miserably, Tony glanced at himself in the mirror as he wet down his face to shave. The ever-present dark bags beneath his eyes, beginning to fade under Pepper’s care, had returned with a vengeance. The rings nearly fully encircled his liquid brown eyes, reddened with tears, giving the illusion of a bullseye. If Pepper’s kidnappers wanted to see Tony Stark broken, then they’d certainly succeeded.

 

Rhodey entered with a black three-piece from Tony’s closet. “Put this on. You need to intimidate. You’re Tony Stark.” With a slight smirk Tony’s best friend presented a gold-trimmed red tie. “Remind them who they’ve messed with.”

 

Tony smiled.

 

No one spoke during the short drive to the Avengers Complex. Tony nervously thumbed his left wrist, concentrating on his breathing. Last thing he needed was a breakdown on live television. He noticed trucks for CNN, NBC, Fox, and countless other news stations crammed in the parking lot.

 

Good.

 

The more people who heard his message, the better.

 

Agent what’s-his-name—Bowers, was it? —was already at the podium in the complex’s conference center when Tony and Rhodes entered, delivering a prepared spiel on how dedicated the FBI was to rescuing Mrs. Stark and bringing the perpetrators to justice. “Rest assured, our team of experts deals with this sort of situation every day. It’s nothing we can’t handle.”

 

Anger swelled in Tony’s heart. Was Pepper just another day on the job to these guys?  

 

“And now Virginia’s husband, Anthony Stark, has a few words to say.”

 

Tony stepped onto the stage and gripped the podium, afraid he may collapse if he let go. “Yeah, I got some words, for sure. I—I’ll take questions in just a moment, but first…” he found a camera and stared dead into it. “I wanna have a little chat with whoever took Pepper. Hey there. I know for a fact you’re watching this. I don’t know what you want, but I’m assuming it’s not money, otherwise you’d already be sitting on your fat—” his voice caught slightly. “…you know, counting your bills, while Pepper was safe in my arms. So maybe you want something other than money—revenge, fame, an autographed Iron Man suit, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t care. I’m giving you 30 seconds to call the number on the bottom of your screen and turn yourself in right now. I’ll count.”

 

For the next thirty seconds, the conference room was a still and silent as the grave. Tony never once broke eye contact with the camera, staring down Pepper’s captors with fierce resolve.

_3…2…1…_

“All right then.” Tony’s voice was dark and quiet. “Not to go all Liam Neeson on you, but I swear, whatever you’ve done with her, whatever rathole you’ve sealed her away in, I’ll find her. And I’ll find you. And when I do, you’ll never see the light of day again.” His voice wavered and rose. “You’ll wish you’d never so much as laid eyes on Pepper, you’ll wish I’d have killed you instead, you’ll wish—”

 

“Tony!” Rhodey leapt on stage, wrapping an arm around the distraught Tony’s shoulder and drawing him back from the podium as the reporters clamored for answers.

 

“I’m never gonna find her, Rhodes,” Tony choked hoarsely, hands shaking violently. “They’ve already killed her.”

 

“You’re not talking straight, Tones. Let’s sit you down somewhere, okay? I’ll deal with these parasites.”

 

Rhodey carefully guided Tony to a chair, sitting him down and squeezing his hand. “Remember to breathe, Tony. Do it for Pepper.”

 

“Tell them—tell them…” Tony gasped, choking on his own breath. “Tell them I’ll give them whatever they want. Tell them I just want her back.”

 

“Hey, hey, like I said, you’re not thinking clearly. I’ll handle this, okay?”

 

Tony nodded, the lump in his throat so swollen he couldn’t utter a word.

 

“Everyone listening?” Rhodey spoke authoritatively as he took the stage. “Mr. Stark wishes for me to inform you that he is offering a reward for any tip that leads to Mrs. Stark’s rescue and safe return. A reward of $1 billion US dollars.”

 

The room exploded into activity. Reporters bombarded Rhodey with questions, shouting to drown out the voices of the others. Happy and several police officers rushed forward to block the few bold who attempted to cross the barrier between media and Tony, who was slumped over with fingers locked in his hair.

 

“We gotta go, Tones,” Rhodey gently yet swiftly lifted Tony to his feet, leading him to the door. Every camera in the room was trained on the disconsolate man, trembling like a frightened child as he mourned the loss of his love. Rhodey shuddered in rage at the thought of Pepper’s captors, delighting in the sight of the great Tony Stark so weak and vulnerable.

 

“Someone will come forward, Tony,” Rhodey promised, gripping his friend’s quivering hand. “No one will be able to pass up that reward.”

 

“They don’t want money…” Tony moaned. “It’s something else. I gotta find her, Rhodes…if I don’t, no one ever will.”

 

***

 

“Sir? Sir, may I come in?”

 

Norman Osborn slammed his coffee down on the table, inadvertently splashing a rather large splatter or two of the piping hot beverage onto his tablet. Cursing under his breath, he popped the device out of its case in attempt to wipe it down before it fritzed.

 

He failed.

 

 _“Bernard!”_ Norman marched to the bedroom door and tore it open, staring down his unflappable butler. “ _What_ did I tell you about bothering me before 7:00 in the morning?!”

 

“It’s 8:30, sir,” Bernard replied coolly. “If you don’t recall, you decided to sleep late today on account of your headache last evening.”

 

Norman muttered to himself, moving to slam the door.

 

“Perhaps you would like to know exactly why I disturbed you at this unholy hour?”

 

Making a mental note to dock his butler’s pay that week, Norman shot him a heated glare. “Why?”

 

“Jacob Knowles is here.”

 

“Oh. Well, tell him I’ll be right down.”

 

“He looks to be in terrible shape. I’m assuming he was mugged last night.”

 

“Not my problem, Bernard!”

 

Still grumbling to himself, Norman finished dressing, unable to shake Pepper Stark from his mind. The audacity of that woman. The Goblin Glider was his last chance for greatness, and without the backing of Stark Industries, the military contract would be lost. Just like a woman to look at a weapon with the majesty of his Glider and see nothing but a glorified firetruck. Yanking on his necktie, he made his way down the stately cherry wood staircase connecting his private suite to the study below. His disheveled assistant drooped against the wall, rubbing his forehead painfully, straightening up with a slight limp when he noticed his boss.

 

“What happened to you?” Norman asked disdainfully, noting Jacob’s swollen nose and the unsightly gash above his eye.  

 

“I was jumped at the store last night,” the younger man replied, eyes darting between his employer and Bernard, who stood quietly in the corner. “Have you, er… heard?”

 

Norman folded his arms. “Heard what?”

 

“About Pepper Stark. She was, um, she was kidnapped last night. It’s all over the news.”

 

“Kidnapped?” Norman’s eyes darkened. “Hmm…well… that’s just terrible. Whom by?”

 

“They’re, um… they’re not sure.”

 

“I can only imagine how poor Tony must be feeling…” he shook his head, lip curling slightly. “Who knows what’s happening to the poor thing as we speak?”

 

Jacob shifted uncomfortably, glancing at his feet. “I brought the files you asked for at SI yesterday. The ones on Tony Stark.”

 

“Ah yes,” Norman smirked. “Thank you. In fact… I couldn’t have dreamed of a better time to show them to the world than right now.”

 

***

 

“Please, you gotta let me in!” Peter Parker pleaded.

 

“I’m sorry, kid,” the muscle-bound guard at the Avengers Complex replied, a hint of sympathy in his otherwise grizzly tone. “Only authorized personnel beyond this point.”

 

“But, please, I gotta see Mr. Stark,” Peter’s voice wavered. “He’s probably so…so—” He bit his tongue, afraid he may burst into sobs if he spoke any further.

 

“Look, young man, I know—”

 

“What’s going on here?” a gruff voice barked. Happy Hogan marched up to the guard, prodding him in the chest. “The kid has full access to the entire compound, got it?”

 

“I’m very sorry, sir,” the guard stepped aside, allowing Peter and Happy to pass.

 

“What are you doing here, kid? Isn’t it a school day?” Happy inquired, his voice softer than usual.

 

“I came as soon as I heard about-about Mrs. Stark,” Peter panted, swiping at his eyes. “How’s Mr. Stark doing?”

 

Happy shook his head. “Not good. But I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.” The bodyguard scanned his badge on the computer lock, letting Peter into the Starks’ private lounge. Tony was pacing back and forth, gripping his hair, as two or three men in dark suits and sunglasses spoke with him.

 

Peter decided not to disturb him, but Tony noticed the boy before he could slip into hiding.

 

“Kid!” A ghost of a smile flickered across Tony’s face as he rushed to greet him. His swollen, watery eyes and tear-streaked cheeks broke Peter’s heart.

 

“Oh my gosh, Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry, I—”

 

Much to the boy’s surprise, Tony scooped him against his chest, choking softly. Cold dread gripped Peter’s heart at the feeling of his mentor, his hero, quavering in absolute misery. “Peter… thank-thank you for coming…”

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark…” Peter hiccupped, tears spilling from his gentle eyes. “May-maybe if I’d been out on-on patrol, instead of having-having dinner with you, I could-could’ve stopped them… I could’ve saved her!”

 

“No,” Tony chided. “None of this is your fault. There’s nothing you could’ve done, okay? What happened to Pep… it’s my fault, and no one else’s.”

 

“Tony?” Happy peered into the room. “Jasmine Chang is here to see you.”

 

Before Tony could respond, a short woman with silky black hair pushed past Happy, rubbing puffy eyes. “Mr. Stark,” she rasped, evidently weak from sobbing. “Mr. Stark, I-I…” her voice broke as she dissolved into tears once again.

 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay…” Tony placed a comforting hand on Jasmine’s shoulder. “Just-just breathe.” Pepper had become like an older sister to the young woman, who right now, didn’t look much older than Peter.

“Mrs. Stark had a meeting yesterday,” Jasmine spoke lowly once she’d caught her breath. “With Norman Osborn.”

 

Peter’s ears nearly perked at the name.

 

“It-it didn’t go well…he was furious with her,” Jasmine’s voice dropped again, almost to a whisper. “Mr. Stark, I think he did this. I-I think Norman Osborn kidnapped Pepper.”

 

***

 

A hazy light filtered through the filthy sack on Pepper’s head. She moaned softly, voice strangled by what seemed to be layers of tape. Her head ached. Her wrists and ankles ached. Her wounds were tender and caked in dry blood. Someone was carrying her, taking no care to prevent her throbbing head from flopping about.

 

She grunted in pain as she was dropped on the hard-packed ground. The bag was yanked from her head, allowing cool air to brush against her bruised, tear-stained face. Grimy hands seized her hair, jerking her upright.

 

“C’mon, darling. There’s someone who wants to see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated <3


	5. Accused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter isn't very long... I really wanted to hit the 10,000 word mark, but just couldn't find the inspiration...

“You sure you don’t want a sandwich, Mr. Stark?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“A sandwich?”

 

Tony forced his eyes up from intensely studying the patterns in the wooden tabletop. “Oh… no thank you, kid, I, uh… I’m not that hungry.”

 

Peter stopped spinning in the cushioned chair while munching on his ham-and-cheese to frown at Tony. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me you haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. You _gotta_ be hungry by now.”

 

“Okay, remind me to lock you out of her system,” Tony’s voice softened when he saw the concern in Peter’s eyes. “Hey… don’t worry about it, okay? I’ve gone almost a week without eating before. Creative fever. Pepper had to practically shove a bagel down my throat before I…”

 

The words caught in this throat. “Why, um… why don’t you see if Happy’ll drive you home, kiddo?”

 

“But I should be here for the meeting,” Peter protested. “I’m an Avenger, too!”

 

“Yes, but this isn’t exactly an Avengers meeting. Remember, I’m retired.”

 

“I want to help you find Mrs. Stark!”

 

“I know you do, and I’m very grateful to you for that. But it’s getting late, and May will be getting worried.”

 

“But Mr. Stark—”

 

“Peter.”

 

Sensing the sternness in Tony’s voice, Peter sighed in defeat and hopped up to give him a hug. “I know you’ll find her…” he assured before shuffling from the room, just as Rhodey entered, taking a seat beside Tony.

 

“Any word on the turnout?” Tony inquired.

  
“Clint said no way,” Rhodes grumbled.

 

“Figures.” Rhodey could hear the bitterness lacing Tony’s voice.

 

“So did Hope van Dyne. Scott Lang should still be here, though. No answer from Bruce or Natasha… I’m guessing they’re off the grid somewhere. T’Challa can’t come, of course, but he did pledge a few of his Dora Milaje as support. Thor promised to be here as soon as he can, but no telling when that is. We tried to contact the Guardians, but they’re too far off in space to reach them.”

 

“We’ll take what we can get,” Tony shrugged listlessly, though inside he was fuming. Pepper had been _kidnapped_ by some psychopath, and half of the team was calling out sick?

 

“Stark.”

 

Rhodey leapt from his chair in surprise, although Tony didn’t so much as turn to face the glittering golden portal that had opened behind him. “Hey, doc… thanks for coming.”

 

Stephen Strange took a seat opposite Tony. “I’m…I’m very sorry to hear about Pepper. I hope you know it isn’t your fault.”

 

Tony merely grunted in response.

 

“I’m afraid I cannot stay long, but I want you to know that I will provide aid whenever I can.”

 

“I appreciate it,” Tony replied in a small voice.

 

A few silent minutes passed, and the first of the remaining Avengers, both past and present, began to arrive. Wanda Maximoff, tearful eyes nearly hidden by a baseball cap, placed a hand on Tony’s arm in sympathy, quietly telling him she knew exactly how he felt.

 

Tony knew that she did.

 

Scott Lang, looking out of place in the stately Avengers conference room in his oversized plaid flannel and faded jeans, took a seat beside her and struck up a casual conversation, hoping to drown out the deafening silence. Finally, Steve Rogers arrived, flanked by Bucky Barnes.

 

Funny. The guy who killed Tony’s parents was now going to help him save his wife.

 

“Hey, Tony,” Steve sat a seat down from his friend, pain in his soulful blue eyes. “I am so, so sorry. I can’t even imagine how it feels.”

 

“Thanks,” Tony nodded, eyes darting to Rhodey and back to Steve. He wondered when it wouldn’t be awkward to talk to Steve again. They had saved the world together, after all. Yet somehow, whenever Tony looked at him, he could feel the shield being driven into his chest…

 

“…formulate a list of suspects. Tony, is there anyone you can think of off the top of your head?”

 

Had Steve been talking to him? “Oh, yeah… Norman-Norman Osborn….” Tony stammered, peeved with himself for having lost focus. Pepper’s life was on the line and here he was, unwilling to let bygones be bygones. “Pepper’s assistant, she um, she said they fell out pretty badly during their meeting earlier today.”

 

“Okay then. Anybody else?”

 

“Need a handwritten list of everyone I’ve slighted over the past 25 years? Not to worry, I’ll have it done by the time I’m 83.”

 

Steve stared at him is exasperation. “Tony…”

 

“I don’t know, all right, you don’t think I’ve already tried to figure this out?” Tony snapped.

 

“No need to get persnickety,” Strange interjected.

 

“Persnickety? Well then what do you call—”

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Sam Wilson entered, still wearing his wingpack.

 

“Glad you could make it,” Steve smiled, hoping to bring some civility back to the conversation.

 

“I would’ve been out the door on time, but the news was on and, well…” he paused, as though at a loss for words. “Maybe it’s better you guys see for yourself.”

 

Sam flicked on the TV and leaned against the table, shaking his head. CNN flickered onto the screen, Pepper’s picture in the corner while the anchorwoman spoke. His wife’s beautiful smile hit Tony like a freight train. He recognized where the picture was taken… earlier that year, at the annual gala for the Firefighters’ Family Fund. The exact same place where they shared their first dance, so many years before. Somehow, Tony found her even more stunning.

 

“Breaking news concerning the Virginia Stark case. Mere minutes ago, a new lead was uncovered by executive J. Jonah Jameson. Earlier today, Mr. Jameson received a package from an anonymous Stark Industries employee, containing incriminating files linking the tech giant to illegal transactions supplying North Korean militants with potentially dangerous technology.”

 

“ _What!?”_ Tony flung curses at the screen. “ _What the—how could they?!”_

 

Jameson himself soon appeared beside the anchor, looking quite smug as he recollected his story to the anchor. “Incredible, isn’t it? The employee who provided this information is close to Mrs. Stark. Apparently she discovered these transactions only hours before she was abducted… ironic isn’t it?”

 

“Are you implying that Mrs. Stark was kidnapped by one of her own?”

 

“More than that, Katherine. Now, I shouldn’t say this until it’s confirmed, but… the employee number that approved the transactions was ‘1.’ Know who that is? Tony Stark himself.”

 

An icy silence fell over the room. One by one, every pair of eyes traveled to Tony Stark, breaths held as they awaited his reaction. All color drained from the man’s face, before returning as a furious shade of red. “What did that piece of—what did he just say?”

 

“What exactly are you implying, Mr. Jameson?” the anchor prodded.

 

In an answer to both the interviewer and Tony himself, Jameson pompously declared, “Exactly what it sounds like I am. Tony Stark arranged for his own wife’s kidnapping.”

 

***

 

Peter stuffed the wadded-up up geometry test in his backpack, cheeks flushed. How was he going to explain a D- to Aunt May? It wasn’t that he didn’t _understand_ geometry… it was one of his best subjects after all. Rather, his mind just hadn’t been in it. Not with all the thoughts streaking through his head, drowning out any sense of rationality.

 

Not when people were calling Mr. Stark a kidnapper.

_It’s not fair…_ Peter though as he wandered toward the cafeteria for lunch. More than anything, he wished Ned didn’t have to come down with a cold today of all days. He felt a stab of guilt for thinking so selfishly, but right now, he just needed someone to talk to. He hoped MJ would be in a listening mood, which thankfully, she usually was. Even if she had her nose buried in a book the entire time you talked.

 

“I thought we were supposed to be, uh, a bit more unbiased?”

 

“It’s not biased. It’s a perfectly sensible theory. I mean, think about it. It’s Tony Stark, after all.”

 

The hairs on his neck standing up, Peter immediately zeroed in on the conversation, which became all he could hear among the bustling chatter of Midtown Tech’s hallways. Betty Brant, an old friend of Liz Toomes, was pointing an accusing finger at her school talk show co-host Jason Ionello, her friend Seymour O’Reilly at her side.

 

“I just think that maybe we shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions,” Jason grumbled.

“You’re only saying that because you wore Iron Man pajamas until you were in eighth grade,” Betty rolled her eyes.

 

“Hey, guys,” Peter sauntered up to the trio, trying to appear casual. “Whatcha, um, whatcha talking about?”

 

“The Pepper Stark case,” Seymour replied. “Did you see the news? Now they’re saying Tony Stark probably had her kidnapped to cover up some illegal arms deals with North Korea. Crazy, right?”

 

“You can’t _actually_ believe that, you guys,” Peter protested. “I mean, Tony Stark is a _hero._ ”

 

Betty shot Peter a condescending glare. “Oh, so you’re buying into that whole narrative? There are lots of other extremely credible theories about what fixed the Decimation.”

 

“Well, _you’re_ the one who’s believing _J. Jonah Jameson_ of all people!”

 

“Gotta agree with Parker there,” Jason shrugged. “The guy’s a crackpot.”

 

“Maybe, but it makes sense,” Betty countered. “Stark Industries has a history of selling arms under the table. Remember the Ten Rings? We _just_ covered that in Modern History. Not to mention Tony Stark’s an entitled narcissist with enough money to buy Antarctica as his personal ski resort. I bet you he wouldn’t hesitate to turn on his own wife if it meant defending a source of income.”

 

Peter’s entire face burned red. “How can you _say that!?_ I mean, most of that isn’t even true! It was Obadiah Stane who was selling stuff to the Ten Rings, not Mr. Stark! And he _loves_ his wife! So, _so_ much! Believe me, I know!”

 

“Oh really? How so?” Betty folded her arms.

 

“Because, I, uh… I intern for him, remember?” Peter fumbled of a story. “One time I was… filing, in Mrs. Stark’s office, and Mr. Stark came in with, uh, a big thing of flowers to take her to dinner. Trust me, he’d never do _anything_ to hurt her. Did you not even see that press conference where he was begging for her back?”

 

“Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Peter.”

 

Peter furrowed his brow. “You’ll see. They’ll find out that he’s innocent.”

 

“Oh, I know they will. Because he’ll pay off the investigators. Don’t be so naïve, Parker.” With a flip of her blonde hair, Betty marched off, Seymour at her heels.

 

“Really hope you’re right, Pete,” Jason patted Peter’s shoulder before following his friends.

 

Hands quivering with indignation, Peter shot MJ a quick text. _Hey gotta run an errand 4 may over lunch, sorry, see u in chem._

Peter rushed into the boys’ bathroom and waited in one of the stalls until the bell rang, signaling the official start of lunch period. Once everyone had left, Spider-Man leapt onto the ceiling and squeezed out the skylight. “Hey Karen? Could you get met directions to OsCorp? Fastest route, please… I need to be back before lunch’s over.”

 

“On it, Peter.”

 

***

 

Pepper’s hands were securely fastened behind the back of the chair. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Why did they put this hood back over her head? Didn’t they know she was about to suffocate? She was so thirsty. How long had it been since she had water? If only they’d take this tape off her mouth…

 

Several people were pressed in both behind and alongside the chair. She could feel them. One yanked her ponytail, laughing cruelly. “Knock it off…” another voice growled. “We’re rolling in three, two, one…”

 

The bag was jerked from her, a sensation becoming all too familiar. She was in a dimly lit room with at least a dozen strange men, staring into a camera.

 

One man stepped forward and began to speak, his voice mocking and dripping with sadistic delight. “Greetings, Tony Stark….”


	6. Captive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, we'll see what Pepper's been up to...

“I’m going to ask this one more time, Mr. Stark. Did you kidnap your wife?”

 

“No. For the last time, _no._ ”

 

“Do you know where your wife is?”

 

“ _No._ If I did, I would be there right now saving her, which is where you should be! Are you unaware of the fact that polygraphs don’t even work?”

 

“Was that a confession, Mr. Stark?” the police interrogator’s expression remained the same. Stiff. Cold. Unforgiving.

 

“No.”

 

After a moment of silence, the interrogator unhooked Tony from the wires. “You’re free to go.”

 

“Good riddance,” Tony snapped, marching from the dimly-lit room. That was the first of three polygraph tests already scheduled for that week. His blood boiled. Pepper was still out there, enduring who knew what, and the people that were supposed to rescuing her were too focused on indicting him of a crime he didn’t commit.

 

Rhodey was waiting for him outside the police station. “How’d it go?”

 

“Splendidly. Where’s the team?”

 

“Back at the Compound, which is where I need to be heading. Listen, you’re set to appear on CNN tonight. We got to get the focus back on Osborn.”

 

“They’re not even investigating Osborn,” Tony choked. “There’s no ‘concrete evidence’ against him, which is a lie. I’m getting the feeling that Osborn’s the one who sent Jameson those so-called leaked files in the first place.”

 

“Your private investigator is looking into it, remember? Tones, it’s gonna be okay. I gotta get going. Happy is almost here with—”

 

_“Mr. Stark!”_

Tony turned just in time to see a disheveled, wild-eyed Peter Parker rushing toward him second before the kid crashed against his chest, panting for breath.

 

“Kid, hey, easy, easy, it’s okay…” Tony placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Peter, what’s going on? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you in school?”

“It-it’s Mr. Osborn,” Peter gasped. “I-I was just there, at OsCorp, I-I… Mr. Stark, I _found_ something. I gotta show you right now!”

 

***

 

Tony Stark was late for a Board of Directors meeting. Again.

 

“Tony, it’s time to _go!_ ” Pepper called, rapping frantically on the door to the lab. Stane would chew her out if she let Tony show up half an hour behind schedule again.

 

“Ah, lighten up, Potts!”

 

I swear, Tony, I’m going to—”

 

The door opened abruptly, the bright lights of the lab interior nearly blinding her. No, the lights weren’t from the lab. They were from above her.

 

She opened her eyes, blinking as the lights glared angrily down at her from the high concrete ceiling. Letting her tangled hair fall over her face, Pepper kicked back the scratchy sheet and shoved herself upright on the stiff cot, so different from her plush comforters and downy mattress at home.

 

She glanced about the room, which had become painfully familiar to her. It was no bigger than her closet, though to be fair, being Tony Stark’s wife meant her closet was bigger than her college dorm room. The walls were gray cinderblock, stretching up a good twelve feet to the ceiling. Pepper figured the building must have once been some sort of small warehouse before it was converted into her prison.

 

The cot was the only item of furniture in the room, aside from a fold-up table by the entrance to the bathroom, which was merely a crudely installed toilet and sink separated from the rest of her luxurious quarters by a flimsy wall of plywood. On the table was a small stack of books next to a neatly folded set of clothes.

 

The only entrance was a reinforced door, with a small, locked slat at its base. _Any time now…_ she thought to herself, eyes fixed on slat. After a few moments, it slid open, and a plate of food appeared. Pepper placed in on the table, which she dragged over to the cot. Taking a seat, she studied the food. A breakfast bar, still in its wrapper, and a cold slice of toast. _At least they put butter on it today…_ she thought, wishing silently that the bar would magically transform into warm, salty scrambled eggs. 

 

Deciding she wasn’t hungry, Pepper pushed the plate aside and reached under the cot’s flat pillow, pulling out her most prized possession—a calendar. Taking her chap stick—the one item she’d managed to hang on to—she smudged a line through the previous day.

 

Three weeks had now passed since the night she was kidnapped.

 

The first two or three days of her captivity had been ripped straight from a nightmare. After filming the cryptic video intended for Tony, Pepper—kept bound, gagged, and blindfolded—was bundled from location to location, stuffed into car trunks or closets, deprived of food and given but a single drink of water before finally being locked inside her current cell. For nearly twenty-four hours after her arrival, she curled up on the cot and sobbed as though her heart would break, too terrified to move. Eventually, someone entered and injected something into her shoulder. When she awoke, the wounds obtained during her kidnap were cleaned and wrapped, and she had been administered an IV drip, judging from the fresh bruise in the crook of her arm.

Then began her days of monotony. Each morning, the lights automatically switched on, signaling the start of the day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were served at regular intervals, before the lights shut off at night. The only items to be found were a toothbrush and travel-size tube of toothpaste, along with a bar of soap, on the bathroom sink. Two days after her arrival, a silent man, whom she called FedEx Man in her head, entered with a fresh change of clothing. Pepper timidly requested a washcloth and a calendar. Without a word, he exited, returning a few minutes later with the washcloth. Every few days, FedEx Man appeared, bringing a change of clothes and, if necessary, soap. During his second visit, Pepper reiterated her desire for a calendar, as well as a book. This time, her request was honored, and FedEx Man delivered a calendar along with a few paperback books later that evening. They were all bland romance novels, but they served their purpose. Anything to alleviate the mind-numbing boredom of her prison.

 

Pepper gently thumbed the calendar, admiring the image of a pristine waterfall, with a family of ducks swimming at the base. A few weeks before, her entire life was dictated by calendars and schedules. Now, it was the only thing keeping her from going crazy.

 

Nearly two weeks before, on what she determined to be a Sunday afternoon, she scoured every inch of her cell, searching for a way, anyway, to escape. But her efforts were in vain. The door was impenetrable; she was unable to slide even a sheet of paper torn from the back of her book beneath it. No knob to pick, no hinges to dismantle. Nothing in the room could be turned into a weapon, unless she could somehow overtake her only visitor with a soapy washcloth the next he dropped off the laundry. If Tony were here, she knew, he could make an assault rifle out her toothbrush and the sink faucet. But he wasn’t here. And for all she knew, he would never find her. Overwhelmed with unbearable sense of hopelessness, she had sunk to the ground in tears, clutching the calendar to her chest.

No, Tony wouldn’t find her.

 

She would have to escape on her own.

 

So far, no opportunity had presented itself.

 

“Today’s the day…” she muttered to herself, as she did every morning, tucking the calendar back underneath the pillow. “I’m getting out. I’m going home.” It was her mantra, though in her heart, she doubted it more and more with each passing day.

 

Pepper listlessly sifted through her paperbacks, opting to reread _Lost in the Heartland_ for the third time. She was becoming a bit more invested in Eliza’s romantic woes that she cared to admit. Maybe she could ask for the sequel the next time FedEx Man showed up…

 

She finished the book by late afternoon, one of the curses of reading so quickly, stopping only to eat a lunch of microwaved macaroni and cheese with a side of boiled broccoli. Sighing heavily, she laid down, hoping to nap the remainder of the long, dull day away before her succulent dinner arrived. What she wouldn’t give for a plate of spicy—

 

The metallic whine of the door sent Pepper scrambling to her feet, heart racing. FedEx Man never came to her cell so late in the day. Something was happening.

 

“What do you want?” she blurted out as three men entered, none of whom she recognized. Two of them appeared to be guards of some sort, and stood a few paces behind the first, a middle-aged man of medium build, with thinning brown hair and a stringy beard. _No moustache,_ Pepper noted disdainfully. _Such impeccable hygiene skills._ He looked her up and down like a head of cattle at auction.

 

“I trust you’ve enjoyed your time of relaxation, Mrs. Stark?”

 

“Oh,” Pepper’s voice wobbled as she found her breath. “It’s been just _magnificent._ ”

“Excellent,” No Moustache Man replied, ignoring the evident sarcasm in her tone. “However, the time for rest has come to an end. Your gracious host is expecting you to visit him this evening.” Turning on his heel, the man nodded to the guards. The first grabbed Pepper’s arms and twisted them behind her as the second man tied a blindfold over her eyes.

 

The color drained from Pepper’s cheeks, knees weakening, as she was forced forward by the guards. For weeks, she’d dreamed of nothing more than leaving that wretched place. But now, she longed to run back to its safety. Unbridled terror bore down upon her.

 

 _Don’t faint…_ she ordered herself. _Do not faint!_

 

Her bare feet stung as the padded against the cold concrete floor. Her “escorts” dragged her down a staircase, then through several doorways, which slammed behind them. After dropping down several more flights of stairs, her feet mercifully found unusually plush carpet. In fact, it reminded her of her own bedroom.

 

Her feet suddenly struck tile. The guard on her left removed her blindfold and cut the bonds on her wrists. She blinked in the bright lighting, shocked to find herself in a bathroom, a _real_ bathroom, and a fairly elegant one at that.

 

“Now, Mrs. Stark, you best get to making yourself presentable,” No Moustache Man advised as he closed the door behind him. “An aide will arrive in two hours to deliver your evening wear.”

 

Pepper sank down onto the stone bench beside the clean marble shower, shuddering in fear and confusion. “Tony…” she mumbled. “What is-what is happening? I’m not ready… I’m not ready for this yet…”

 

Wrapping her arms around her knees, she rocked herself for a minutes, focusing on breathing. _Crying isn’t doing you any good, Potts…_ she reminded herself, wiping her nose. Right now, going along with her captors’ wishes may be the only way to get back to the surface.

 

The hot water nearly took her breath away as it rained down on her. With only a washcloth to keep herself clean for the past few weeks, she hadn’t let herself dwell on how badly she wanted to shower, but _oh,_ how she missed it. For a few minutes, Pepper simply stood beneath the shower head, letting the steaming water wash away the filth, grime, sweat, and tears of her captivity. Inhaling the scent of the almond and lavender shampoo, she massaged the grease from her strawberry hair, praying she never had to get out.

 

Feeling clean for the first time since that scumbag snatched her, Pepper slipped on the velvety bathrobe she found waiting for her on the towel rack and savored its soft touch. If she closed her eyes, she could almost convince herself she was at home, with Tony, safe…

 

The white granite countertop was bare, prompting Pepper to search the drawers. Much to her surprise, they were fully equipped with as many grooming tools as her bathroom back home. She found it strange that her captors would provide her access to a room chalk full of razors and flat irons.

 

 _It’s because they know you’ll go along with it…_ she thought in disgust, suppressing the urge to prove her kidnappers wrong by going full Jason Bourne with a curling iron. Doubt clouded in her heart. Maybe this wasn’t the best way to escape. Maybe she was giving these sickos exactly what they wanted. She gently curled her hair and applied light makeup, being sure to leave the bruise on her cheek uncovered. A reminder that she wasn’t falling for her captors’ games. She rummaged through the drawers, looking for something small to arm herself with…

 

Pepper gasped as the door swung open. A dark-haired woman stared in distaste, her austere eyes void of any emotion save disapproval.

 

“It hasn’t been two hours,” Pepper folded her arms.

 

“No, it hasn’t,” the woman barked. “Come out.” She took a vicelike hold on Pepper’s arm and led her out into the bedroom, shoving her down on a finely upholstered sofa. A breathtaking red satin gown was laid over the bed. Pepper sighed.

 

“I’m assuming that’s for me?”

 

“Not another word out of you,” the woman hissed, opening a small case and setting to work on Pepper’s face. Clearly, she found Pepper’s makeup job unsatisfactory. Weeks had passed since Pepper had seen another woman, but this one wasn’t exactly proving herself to be much of a comfort.

 

Still, she hoped the woman took her time. Her company wasn’t by any means pleasant, but anything was better than what she knew was coming.

 

Tonight, she would at last come face-to-face with the man who kidnapped her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions, comments, recipes you'd like to share? Please let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts, suggestions, theories? Please let me know!


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